CHAOS fic: Several Very Important Rules Casey and Billy Decided Upon ... | Billy/Casey
Title: Several Very Important Rules Casey and Billy Decided Upon and Promptly Broke (Because They Were Never Good At Following Rules Anyway)
Author: asemic
Fandom: CHAOS (tv)
Pairing/Characters: Billy/Casey
Rating/Category: R
Summary: Ten very simple rules, two very willing men, and one fantastic idea: sex without baggage.
When they agreed on their arrangement they laid down ten rules. A quick nod in agreement and a handshake bound them.
Ten very simple rules, two very willing men, and one fantastic idea: sex without baggage.
What could possibly go wrong?
***
Rule no. seven: avoid pre-game chit chat.
“You're so rough. Aren't you going to talk me up a bit?”
Casey looked heavenward as if in complete disbelief over the situation at hand. “I thought we agreed against sweet nothings.”
“You could tell me how much you want this,” Billy pressed. Casey shoved him on the bed and continued to yank off his shirt.
“Judging by the state of my arousal, I believe it's obvious.”
“It is. I must commend you. Now I know why you walk around like you own the place.”
“Women love confidence,” Casey said with certainty. He balled up Billy's socks and tossed them over his shoulders.
“And charm and politeness and that,” Billy noted. He admired the slight flush that spread along the tips of Casey's ears. “I believe you'll find me equally as impressive.”
“Why am I doing all the work? Take off your pants.”
“No use leaving you in breathless anticipation.” Billy threw him a wink and yanked his jeans and boxers down his thighs. He wiggled his ass into the mattress and smiled. “Well?”
Casey quirked an eyebrow. “Not bad.”
“Not bad?” Billy flopped dramatically back on the bed. “Here I am at my most vulnerable and you choose this moment to insult me.”
“I think I can make do.” Casey worked Billy's pants off and left them where they fell. “You talk too much.”
Billy covered his eyes with his forearm. “You're a bastard,” he said with a grin.
“Shut up and let me blow you.”
***
Rule no. three: no sleepovers.
“How did you get here in the first place?”
“Mass transit.” Billy dug through his crumpled pants pockets and threw some change on the dresser. “I thought I had my pass somewhere. Or at least some money. We get paid next week, right?”
“Get dressed and go home.”
Casey buried his face in his pillow and tried to drift to sleep. A dull thump and metallic scatter from the living room forced him out of bed.
“There's nothing sadder than a naked man scrounging for money.”
Billy knelt on the floor and scooped coins back into the change jar. “Yes, this is happening. I'm a shit robber in addition to whatever else you're thinking at the moment.”
“There's a dollar sixty by the bookcase,” Casey pointed out. Billy scowled and scooted his way over.
“Fuck this,” he groaned. “We work for the CIA. We’re supposed to be cool agency. You'd imagine we'd get some kind of around the clock private car service for moments like this.” The final coins clanked home and he made a face. “I bet Higgins has a private car.”
“I imagine Higgins doesn't find himself in post-sex situations like this.”
They both cringed at the thought.
“God no. He's a spitfire, but I doubt his heart could handle the aerobics.” Billy stood and gestured to his cell on the coffee table. “I'm calling Michael for an emergency extraction. He's helped me out of jams like this before.”
Casey pounced on the phone and pulled it to his chest. “That'd be a mistake.”
“I could fake being drunk. Michael,” he slurred. “That rat bastard thought he could out drink me. 'S'right I won.” Billy smiled brightly. “I've had years of practical experience to be convincing.”
“No.” Casey sighed, defeated. “You can stay. Don't hog the blankets.”
“I have to warn you,” Billy said as he strolled to the bedroom, “I snore.”
“Of course you do.”
***
Rule no. four: leave with what you brought.
“What is this?”
Casey held the offending item between his fingertips.
Billy pulled on a sock. “That's what we Scots call a toothbrush. I thought it was one of those objects common to our respective countries. I’m wrong apparently.”
“No. It was in my toothbrush holder,” Casey placed it on his dresser and glared at it for a moment. “Next to my toothbrush.”
“Evidently being nagged for sharing the same space,” Billy muttered. “Where's my other sock?”
Casey shrugged. “You flung everything off the second you strolled into my apartment.”
“You didn't mind,” Billy said. He strolled to the living room and peered behind the couch. “I could always come in layers and make you suffer.”
“I am suffering. I thought we said we wouldn't leave things at each others' apartments.” Casey frowned at the toothbrush and sat on the bed.
“It's a toothbrush. No matter how hard you glower at it won't wither and die.” Billy returned empty handed. “I don't know where it is. Gone to the ether.”
“No, it's not a toothbrush. It's a sign, an omen.”
“God, you're a commitment-phobe, aren't you?” Billy murmured and patted Casey on the thigh. “Fine. As per our gentlemen's agreement I'll take the offending item from your sight.”
“Thank you.” Billy could hear the slight sigh of relief.
“Good,” Billy said. He toed his sock off and kicked it over to his duffle bag. “If you find the other, let me know. I'll do without.”
Casey shook his head and moved to the dresser. “You'll look stupid. Don't bother returning them since you'll just stretch them out.”
Billy caught the pair and smiled. “You do care.”
“About the state of your appearance. We're operatives not orthopedic wearing analysts.”
“Perish the thought,” Billy said.
For the rest of the day every step was a little victory.
***
Rule no. two: it doesn’t leave their apartments.
He plopped the set on Casey’s coffee table.
“No.”
“Come on, even you can’t deny the charms of a certain fellow countryman of mine,” Billy said, edging his voice to sound like Connery.
Casey blinked and began to nudge the boxed set out of view with his foot. “I can and will continue to do so.”
“You are no fun,” Billy huffed. He picked up the Bond DVDs and kissed it gently. “Don’t listen to him. He’s a monster.”
“As fond as I am of this wonderful train of conversation, I’m bored.” Casey shut his eyes and ignored Billy.
“Bored? On movie night? How dare you.” Billy set his jaw and stomped to the front door. He flung it open and waited for a reaction. He received none. He clicked the door shut and sank into the cushion next to Casey. “You’re bored, then.”
“Yup.” Casey folded his hands in his lap. “Restless.”
“Instead of staying in we can go out for a bit,” Billy said. He reached around Casey’s shoulders and swept his other arm across some imaginary scenery. “Go for a walk or have a bite to eat.”
“Do I look like the type to take a stroll?”
Billy recovered the situation with clever deflection. “A stroll is different from a walk. We can stride forward with purpose, our coats billowing behind us dramatically as we search for something to do.”
A small smile pulled Casey’s lips. “Your tendency for theatrics often drives you to sing.”
“Some enchanted evening,” Billy started as he reached for his coat. “You may see a stranger.”
“When you hit the note I’ll send up a flare.”
“Dream killer.”
“Realist.”
***
Rule no. nine: no pillow talk.
“Jesus Christ,” Billy sputtered once more as the final wave of his orgasm hit. That’s all folks; he was done, his brains scrambled and limbs limp. “I’m going to not move for a bit if that’s fine.”
Casey leaned over him. “You don’t have to.” He rubbed his face into Billy’s armpit and bit the thin skin of his bicep lightly.
“I still can’t believe you bask in the afterglow,” Billy murmured as Casey licked his way up his shoulder. There was a pause and Billy frowned. “Doesn’t mean I’m not a fan. Keep going.”
“I know how to keep my partners satisfied.” Casey dropped a hand to Billy’s hip and massaged in wide circles. “And whether you believe it or not, I enjoy this as well.”
“Are you a cuddler too?” Billy chuckled and draped his arms around Casey. He was welcomed with a wiggle and a decidedly un-arousing pinch to his nipple. “Ow!”
“No, I don’t cuddle. I stroke and touch to continue blood flow and sensitivity,” Casey lectured. “I enhance the moment, not squash it between two ensnaring arms.”
Billy groaned and snapped his arms open. “You make everything so clinical.”
“No, I don’t. There’s nothing clinical about this,” Casey said, insulted. “You were enjoying it a moment ago.”
“Still. Well, I cuddle. I love cuddling. I cling like a damn monkey because it feels good.” Billy tried to roll over, but Casey pinned him down. He heard the gears turn and the abacus beads click as Casey thought.
“I’ll allow it,” Casey began. He made a stern face. “Though it pains me to say it I will hold you.”
Billy shimmied onto his side and Casey brought him close. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“You know, you can caress me while doing this. Maybe do what you were doing before, but to the back of my neck.” Billy kneaded Casey’s forearm. He made a contented sound when a hand moved along his torso. “How’s the moment going?”
There was a pause. Billy was certain he was calculating some complicated equation centered on levels of personal intimacy, skin contact, and his fear of being trapped. “It’s comfortable.”
“See, you can trust old Billy. He knows best.”
“At times.”
***
Rule no. five: this is not a relationship.
“What have you done?”
“Nothing.”
Casey leaned in his chair and crossed his arms. “You have guilty eyes implying guilt.”
Billy shuffled a handful of papers in the effort to appear busy. “Though I'm flattered that you spend your spare time gazing into my piercing eyes, you are misinformed. Guilt means that I've done something wrong or dishonest. I've done no such thing.”
“I believe otherwise.” Casey reached for his stress ball and started pumping. “There are times when I don't trust you. This time is now.”
“Thank heavens you're on the case, Miss Marple.” Billy raised an eyebrow and slid his chair to the filing cabinet.
Casey rolled to meet him. He leaned forward and spoke low. “You're up to something.”
“Are we going to have a moment,” Billy asked. He snapped open the cabinet between them and grabbed a file. “Yes, we are. What led you to conclude I've done anything but drag myself to work?”
The drawer clicked shut and he moved back to his desk. Casey followed. “I’ve gotten to know you quite well,” he said. “Something is going on.”
Billy scribbled notes in the margins of his report until a hand was slammed on the paper. He wanted to wrench Casey’s hand off the file, but let it remain. “I won’t shake you, will I?”
“You can attempt to, but it’s doubtful.”
“I am going on a date,” Billy said. He pursed his lips and waited for anything resembling a response from Casey. Not even a blink. “Well, that’s that. You can go away now.”
Casey remained, but removed his hand from the now wrinkled page. “I’m glad you are working towards an active social life beyond these walls.”
“And beyond this partnership,” Billy said. He looked at Casey and saw a slight twitch in the corner of his eye. “Did my words sting?”
Casey straightened his posture and bristled. “Not at all. I understand the rules of our interactions.”
Billy leaned forward. “My god, there’s jealousy.” He wanted to write this in his diary with thick bleeding heart ink. “This is a day I never thought would come.”
“I assure you that it hasn’t nor will it ever. I’m fine. I hope you and her have a wonderful time at whatever moderately priced family friendly establishment you choose.” He rolled back to his desk and snatched his stress ball in a death grip.
“What makes you believe my date is a she?” He didn’t look up. He could feel Casey seethe across the room. “Oh dear, did I strike a nerve?”
“No.”
“Deadpanning your response does not hide your true emotions on the matter,” he said and stood. He walked over to Casey’s desk and loomed over him. “Lest we forget, it was you emphasizing the importance of rule five.”
Casey leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “I still stand by our agreement. And my feelings on the matter, whatever matter involves you, remain the same.”
“You’re a terrible liar sometimes.” Billy patted him on the shoulder, lips drawn into a tight line. “I don’t expect much, but I expect honesty from my relationships, friendships and this included.”
There was a brief moment of silence. Casey focused on a scuff on the linoleum then cleared his throat. “Rule number five still stands.”
Billy shrugged and returned to his desk. Yeah, they threw the damn rules out the window sometime ago.
***
Rule no. one: above all, this doesn’t enter the workplace.
“Casey’s pissed.”
Michael cringed as another tooth flew out of a thug’s mouth. “I think you’re understating the situation.”
“Is this a rampage?” Rick followed Casey’s feet as he let out a flurry of kicks to another man’s groin. He looked away as nerves flared with sympathetic pain. “It feels like a rampage.”
“It looks like a shit fit,” Michael stated as Casey disappeared into another room. “The last time I saw this happen was in aught six outside Reykjavik. It was less a bar fight and more of a slaughter.”
“Should we stop him?” A scream filled the air then the wet thud of flesh hitting the ground.
“Go ahead, Rick,” Michael dared. Rick hesitated and followed Michael along the trail of groaning and gurgling bodies through the once compromised safe house. One final crunch of something heavy flying through the heavy oak balcony and everything went silent.
“He’s up here,” Casey shouted up from bedroom. “If you want to do something other than stand back and watch me work.”
“You were a blender. We couldn’t get an in without you killing us in the fray.” Michael and Rick stepped over a man and continued upstairs.
“I’m alright, thanks for asking,” Billy piped up from the bathroom. “Just nursing a lump on my head and a few blows to my ego.”
“I’m sure it’s massive enough to survive the trauma,” Casey stated. Rick and Michael poked their heads into the bathroom. Billy sat on the edge of the bathtub, his weight supported by Casey. A large knot swelled on his forehead and a series of red marks painted his cheek.
“I heard quite the racket. I take it you rushed to save the damsel in distress,” Billy chuckled then cringed slightly in pain. “My hero.”
“Glad to see you in once piece, Billy.” Michael pulled out his phone. “I’ll call home and let them know this was a bust.”
“Michael called that display a shit fit,” Rick said. Casey grunted an answer and turned his attention to Billy. “Looking good, Billy.”
“I feel like hell, Rick. But I appreciate the kind words.” Billy tilted his head and worked his jaw under Casey’s fingertips. “You’re a terrible nursemaid, Casey. You’re squeezing when you should be brushing.”
“If you want a gentle touch, look elsewhere,” Casey muttered and ran his finger in front of Billy’s eyes. “No concussion. You’ll live.”
“Don’t sound disappointed. I believe your rampage through the house was enough to demonstrate that you care about my well-being.”
“Hey, Michael. Billy called it a rampage,” Rick shouted behind him. Michael shook his head and mouthed the words ‘shit fit’. He crooked a finger to beckon Rick to his side. “I’ll leave you with your knight in shining armor.”
“Behind that stony exterior is a man who cares, Martinez. Come on, you can admit it,” Billy said. His voice softened. “Go ahead.”
Rick left and Casey responded. It was a simple gesture, a slight slide of his thumb against Billy’s knee. They sat together legs pressed during the wait for their orders to come.
***
Hindsight is twenty-twenty.
Him fucking his friend, his co-worker, the man who went through hell and back with him for the past six years was an enormously stupid idea. There were too many things at stake.
It was gratifying as hell, though.
The other three rules? They were forgotten. Sometimes the rules don’t matter. You have to go with the flow.
Right now the tide pulled him into Casey’s bed where a warm body and wet mouth waited.
Where nothing was wrong.
Author: asemic
Fandom: CHAOS (tv)
Pairing/Characters: Billy/Casey
Rating/Category: R
Summary: Ten very simple rules, two very willing men, and one fantastic idea: sex without baggage.
When they agreed on their arrangement they laid down ten rules. A quick nod in agreement and a handshake bound them.
Ten very simple rules, two very willing men, and one fantastic idea: sex without baggage.
What could possibly go wrong?
***
Rule no. seven: avoid pre-game chit chat.
“You're so rough. Aren't you going to talk me up a bit?”
Casey looked heavenward as if in complete disbelief over the situation at hand. “I thought we agreed against sweet nothings.”
“You could tell me how much you want this,” Billy pressed. Casey shoved him on the bed and continued to yank off his shirt.
“Judging by the state of my arousal, I believe it's obvious.”
“It is. I must commend you. Now I know why you walk around like you own the place.”
“Women love confidence,” Casey said with certainty. He balled up Billy's socks and tossed them over his shoulders.
“And charm and politeness and that,” Billy noted. He admired the slight flush that spread along the tips of Casey's ears. “I believe you'll find me equally as impressive.”
“Why am I doing all the work? Take off your pants.”
“No use leaving you in breathless anticipation.” Billy threw him a wink and yanked his jeans and boxers down his thighs. He wiggled his ass into the mattress and smiled. “Well?”
Casey quirked an eyebrow. “Not bad.”
“Not bad?” Billy flopped dramatically back on the bed. “Here I am at my most vulnerable and you choose this moment to insult me.”
“I think I can make do.” Casey worked Billy's pants off and left them where they fell. “You talk too much.”
Billy covered his eyes with his forearm. “You're a bastard,” he said with a grin.
“Shut up and let me blow you.”
***
Rule no. three: no sleepovers.
“How did you get here in the first place?”
“Mass transit.” Billy dug through his crumpled pants pockets and threw some change on the dresser. “I thought I had my pass somewhere. Or at least some money. We get paid next week, right?”
“Get dressed and go home.”
Casey buried his face in his pillow and tried to drift to sleep. A dull thump and metallic scatter from the living room forced him out of bed.
“There's nothing sadder than a naked man scrounging for money.”
Billy knelt on the floor and scooped coins back into the change jar. “Yes, this is happening. I'm a shit robber in addition to whatever else you're thinking at the moment.”
“There's a dollar sixty by the bookcase,” Casey pointed out. Billy scowled and scooted his way over.
“Fuck this,” he groaned. “We work for the CIA. We’re supposed to be cool agency. You'd imagine we'd get some kind of around the clock private car service for moments like this.” The final coins clanked home and he made a face. “I bet Higgins has a private car.”
“I imagine Higgins doesn't find himself in post-sex situations like this.”
They both cringed at the thought.
“God no. He's a spitfire, but I doubt his heart could handle the aerobics.” Billy stood and gestured to his cell on the coffee table. “I'm calling Michael for an emergency extraction. He's helped me out of jams like this before.”
Casey pounced on the phone and pulled it to his chest. “That'd be a mistake.”
“I could fake being drunk. Michael,” he slurred. “That rat bastard thought he could out drink me. 'S'right I won.” Billy smiled brightly. “I've had years of practical experience to be convincing.”
“No.” Casey sighed, defeated. “You can stay. Don't hog the blankets.”
“I have to warn you,” Billy said as he strolled to the bedroom, “I snore.”
“Of course you do.”
***
Rule no. four: leave with what you brought.
“What is this?”
Casey held the offending item between his fingertips.
Billy pulled on a sock. “That's what we Scots call a toothbrush. I thought it was one of those objects common to our respective countries. I’m wrong apparently.”
“No. It was in my toothbrush holder,” Casey placed it on his dresser and glared at it for a moment. “Next to my toothbrush.”
“Evidently being nagged for sharing the same space,” Billy muttered. “Where's my other sock?”
Casey shrugged. “You flung everything off the second you strolled into my apartment.”
“You didn't mind,” Billy said. He strolled to the living room and peered behind the couch. “I could always come in layers and make you suffer.”
“I am suffering. I thought we said we wouldn't leave things at each others' apartments.” Casey frowned at the toothbrush and sat on the bed.
“It's a toothbrush. No matter how hard you glower at it won't wither and die.” Billy returned empty handed. “I don't know where it is. Gone to the ether.”
“No, it's not a toothbrush. It's a sign, an omen.”
“God, you're a commitment-phobe, aren't you?” Billy murmured and patted Casey on the thigh. “Fine. As per our gentlemen's agreement I'll take the offending item from your sight.”
“Thank you.” Billy could hear the slight sigh of relief.
“Good,” Billy said. He toed his sock off and kicked it over to his duffle bag. “If you find the other, let me know. I'll do without.”
Casey shook his head and moved to the dresser. “You'll look stupid. Don't bother returning them since you'll just stretch them out.”
Billy caught the pair and smiled. “You do care.”
“About the state of your appearance. We're operatives not orthopedic wearing analysts.”
“Perish the thought,” Billy said.
For the rest of the day every step was a little victory.
***
Rule no. two: it doesn’t leave their apartments.
He plopped the set on Casey’s coffee table.
“No.”
“Come on, even you can’t deny the charms of a certain fellow countryman of mine,” Billy said, edging his voice to sound like Connery.
Casey blinked and began to nudge the boxed set out of view with his foot. “I can and will continue to do so.”
“You are no fun,” Billy huffed. He picked up the Bond DVDs and kissed it gently. “Don’t listen to him. He’s a monster.”
“As fond as I am of this wonderful train of conversation, I’m bored.” Casey shut his eyes and ignored Billy.
“Bored? On movie night? How dare you.” Billy set his jaw and stomped to the front door. He flung it open and waited for a reaction. He received none. He clicked the door shut and sank into the cushion next to Casey. “You’re bored, then.”
“Yup.” Casey folded his hands in his lap. “Restless.”
“Instead of staying in we can go out for a bit,” Billy said. He reached around Casey’s shoulders and swept his other arm across some imaginary scenery. “Go for a walk or have a bite to eat.”
“Do I look like the type to take a stroll?”
Billy recovered the situation with clever deflection. “A stroll is different from a walk. We can stride forward with purpose, our coats billowing behind us dramatically as we search for something to do.”
A small smile pulled Casey’s lips. “Your tendency for theatrics often drives you to sing.”
“Some enchanted evening,” Billy started as he reached for his coat. “You may see a stranger.”
“When you hit the note I’ll send up a flare.”
“Dream killer.”
“Realist.”
***
Rule no. nine: no pillow talk.
“Jesus Christ,” Billy sputtered once more as the final wave of his orgasm hit. That’s all folks; he was done, his brains scrambled and limbs limp. “I’m going to not move for a bit if that’s fine.”
Casey leaned over him. “You don’t have to.” He rubbed his face into Billy’s armpit and bit the thin skin of his bicep lightly.
“I still can’t believe you bask in the afterglow,” Billy murmured as Casey licked his way up his shoulder. There was a pause and Billy frowned. “Doesn’t mean I’m not a fan. Keep going.”
“I know how to keep my partners satisfied.” Casey dropped a hand to Billy’s hip and massaged in wide circles. “And whether you believe it or not, I enjoy this as well.”
“Are you a cuddler too?” Billy chuckled and draped his arms around Casey. He was welcomed with a wiggle and a decidedly un-arousing pinch to his nipple. “Ow!”
“No, I don’t cuddle. I stroke and touch to continue blood flow and sensitivity,” Casey lectured. “I enhance the moment, not squash it between two ensnaring arms.”
Billy groaned and snapped his arms open. “You make everything so clinical.”
“No, I don’t. There’s nothing clinical about this,” Casey said, insulted. “You were enjoying it a moment ago.”
“Still. Well, I cuddle. I love cuddling. I cling like a damn monkey because it feels good.” Billy tried to roll over, but Casey pinned him down. He heard the gears turn and the abacus beads click as Casey thought.
“I’ll allow it,” Casey began. He made a stern face. “Though it pains me to say it I will hold you.”
Billy shimmied onto his side and Casey brought him close. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“You know, you can caress me while doing this. Maybe do what you were doing before, but to the back of my neck.” Billy kneaded Casey’s forearm. He made a contented sound when a hand moved along his torso. “How’s the moment going?”
There was a pause. Billy was certain he was calculating some complicated equation centered on levels of personal intimacy, skin contact, and his fear of being trapped. “It’s comfortable.”
“See, you can trust old Billy. He knows best.”
“At times.”
***
Rule no. five: this is not a relationship.
“What have you done?”
“Nothing.”
Casey leaned in his chair and crossed his arms. “You have guilty eyes implying guilt.”
Billy shuffled a handful of papers in the effort to appear busy. “Though I'm flattered that you spend your spare time gazing into my piercing eyes, you are misinformed. Guilt means that I've done something wrong or dishonest. I've done no such thing.”
“I believe otherwise.” Casey reached for his stress ball and started pumping. “There are times when I don't trust you. This time is now.”
“Thank heavens you're on the case, Miss Marple.” Billy raised an eyebrow and slid his chair to the filing cabinet.
Casey rolled to meet him. He leaned forward and spoke low. “You're up to something.”
“Are we going to have a moment,” Billy asked. He snapped open the cabinet between them and grabbed a file. “Yes, we are. What led you to conclude I've done anything but drag myself to work?”
The drawer clicked shut and he moved back to his desk. Casey followed. “I’ve gotten to know you quite well,” he said. “Something is going on.”
Billy scribbled notes in the margins of his report until a hand was slammed on the paper. He wanted to wrench Casey’s hand off the file, but let it remain. “I won’t shake you, will I?”
“You can attempt to, but it’s doubtful.”
“I am going on a date,” Billy said. He pursed his lips and waited for anything resembling a response from Casey. Not even a blink. “Well, that’s that. You can go away now.”
Casey remained, but removed his hand from the now wrinkled page. “I’m glad you are working towards an active social life beyond these walls.”
“And beyond this partnership,” Billy said. He looked at Casey and saw a slight twitch in the corner of his eye. “Did my words sting?”
Casey straightened his posture and bristled. “Not at all. I understand the rules of our interactions.”
Billy leaned forward. “My god, there’s jealousy.” He wanted to write this in his diary with thick bleeding heart ink. “This is a day I never thought would come.”
“I assure you that it hasn’t nor will it ever. I’m fine. I hope you and her have a wonderful time at whatever moderately priced family friendly establishment you choose.” He rolled back to his desk and snatched his stress ball in a death grip.
“What makes you believe my date is a she?” He didn’t look up. He could feel Casey seethe across the room. “Oh dear, did I strike a nerve?”
“No.”
“Deadpanning your response does not hide your true emotions on the matter,” he said and stood. He walked over to Casey’s desk and loomed over him. “Lest we forget, it was you emphasizing the importance of rule five.”
Casey leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “I still stand by our agreement. And my feelings on the matter, whatever matter involves you, remain the same.”
“You’re a terrible liar sometimes.” Billy patted him on the shoulder, lips drawn into a tight line. “I don’t expect much, but I expect honesty from my relationships, friendships and this included.”
There was a brief moment of silence. Casey focused on a scuff on the linoleum then cleared his throat. “Rule number five still stands.”
Billy shrugged and returned to his desk. Yeah, they threw the damn rules out the window sometime ago.
***
Rule no. one: above all, this doesn’t enter the workplace.
“Casey’s pissed.”
Michael cringed as another tooth flew out of a thug’s mouth. “I think you’re understating the situation.”
“Is this a rampage?” Rick followed Casey’s feet as he let out a flurry of kicks to another man’s groin. He looked away as nerves flared with sympathetic pain. “It feels like a rampage.”
“It looks like a shit fit,” Michael stated as Casey disappeared into another room. “The last time I saw this happen was in aught six outside Reykjavik. It was less a bar fight and more of a slaughter.”
“Should we stop him?” A scream filled the air then the wet thud of flesh hitting the ground.
“Go ahead, Rick,” Michael dared. Rick hesitated and followed Michael along the trail of groaning and gurgling bodies through the once compromised safe house. One final crunch of something heavy flying through the heavy oak balcony and everything went silent.
“He’s up here,” Casey shouted up from bedroom. “If you want to do something other than stand back and watch me work.”
“You were a blender. We couldn’t get an in without you killing us in the fray.” Michael and Rick stepped over a man and continued upstairs.
“I’m alright, thanks for asking,” Billy piped up from the bathroom. “Just nursing a lump on my head and a few blows to my ego.”
“I’m sure it’s massive enough to survive the trauma,” Casey stated. Rick and Michael poked their heads into the bathroom. Billy sat on the edge of the bathtub, his weight supported by Casey. A large knot swelled on his forehead and a series of red marks painted his cheek.
“I heard quite the racket. I take it you rushed to save the damsel in distress,” Billy chuckled then cringed slightly in pain. “My hero.”
“Glad to see you in once piece, Billy.” Michael pulled out his phone. “I’ll call home and let them know this was a bust.”
“Michael called that display a shit fit,” Rick said. Casey grunted an answer and turned his attention to Billy. “Looking good, Billy.”
“I feel like hell, Rick. But I appreciate the kind words.” Billy tilted his head and worked his jaw under Casey’s fingertips. “You’re a terrible nursemaid, Casey. You’re squeezing when you should be brushing.”
“If you want a gentle touch, look elsewhere,” Casey muttered and ran his finger in front of Billy’s eyes. “No concussion. You’ll live.”
“Don’t sound disappointed. I believe your rampage through the house was enough to demonstrate that you care about my well-being.”
“Hey, Michael. Billy called it a rampage,” Rick shouted behind him. Michael shook his head and mouthed the words ‘shit fit’. He crooked a finger to beckon Rick to his side. “I’ll leave you with your knight in shining armor.”
“Behind that stony exterior is a man who cares, Martinez. Come on, you can admit it,” Billy said. His voice softened. “Go ahead.”
Rick left and Casey responded. It was a simple gesture, a slight slide of his thumb against Billy’s knee. They sat together legs pressed during the wait for their orders to come.
***
Hindsight is twenty-twenty.
Him fucking his friend, his co-worker, the man who went through hell and back with him for the past six years was an enormously stupid idea. There were too many things at stake.
It was gratifying as hell, though.
The other three rules? They were forgotten. Sometimes the rules don’t matter. You have to go with the flow.
Right now the tide pulled him into Casey’s bed where a warm body and wet mouth waited.
Where nothing was wrong.